Hand In Hand
by Theopholos Whenntooda
Summary: Once they were premier assassins of the Hand. Now, Elektra and Psylocke must team up to put the criminal organization back into the grave. They will find their very souls tested in this journey, and may come to find strength in each other, as well as possibly... love.
1. Opening

Yep, yep, yep... new story. And this one's a little bit more mature.

I really wanted to do something that gave justice to Deadpool. At the same time, I wanted to delve into the world of Scarlet Spider, Kaine Parker. And then I saw some awesome artwork of Elektra and Psylocke... in various... um, battle poses. Yeah. Sure.

No, seriously. I want to do this, and I warn young readers... it's gonna be rated M for a reason. I think this is my first M rating since Stroke of Death. So yeah.

BUT. I wanna pair Kaine up with Elektra. I also wanna pair him up with Psylocke. I don't know what to do! So please. I'll leave it all up to you guys. You decide who gets it on with whom. I'm up for literally... anything.

* * *

**HAND IN HAND**

**Opening**

* * *

"Is there any way I can convince you not to collect on his bounty?"

Kaine Parker eyed his opponent warily, circling him in the dark alley. Opposite him, imitating his every move, Deadpool swung his sword in an arc.

"'Fraid not," he said, his voice grating on Kaine's ears. "I mean, it's enough to cover my orthodontic work I had done recently. Do you know how expensive dentures are?!"

"I'm surprised you didn't just kill the doctor afterwards," Kaine said sarcastically.

"No, I did. I still need to pay the hook- I mean… the nurse."

Kaine snorted, still moving. The price placed on his head was high, he knew. He just didn't think anyone would actually be stupid enough to try and collect it. But then again, this was Deadpool.

"No, this isn't Doc Ock Spidey," Deadpool said suddenly. Kaine cocked his head, confused. "This is the Scarlet Spider."

"I'm not the Scarlet Spider," Kaine growled, his temper rising. "And I'm not Spider-Man either. I'll actually kill you."

"You'll try," Deadpool said annoyingly. "Oh, wait. No sword. No gun. No weapons. Poor you. Now, me, on the other hand…"

He pulled out one of his adamantium swords from its sheath. Kaine noticed the other one still in its place. He leapt up, flipping over Deadpool, grabbing it and yanking it out of his sheath.

"Hey, no fair!" Deadpool yelled, tripping forward. "That's cheating! Foul! I cry foul!"

"Cheating?" Kaine repeated, spinning the blade in his hands. "Said the guy who's decked out like a third-world country."

"Dude, that's not cool," Deadpool seethed in a low voice. "It's more like a second-world country. Seriously. Give back."

"Make me," Kaine sneered.

The two red-clad warriors faced each other, both freezing for exactly one second. Then they both charged.

But right before their swords made contact, something hit them both, a massive headache that caused them both to stumble backward.

_A psychic attack? _Kaine thought, but then all thoughts were wiped from his mind as he dropped to his knees, the pain reaching a blinding peak.

And then the headache stopped. It vanished, as though it had never happened. Kaine quickly got to his feet, but he didn't have to worry about Deadpool. The mercenary was still on the ground, his hands covering his head.

"No… go away… leave them alone…"

"Who?" Kaine said, looking down at him. "Leave who alone?"

"The poor tacos… oh, poor delishus wrappings of heavenliness… OH, THE INHUMANITY!"

Kaine frowned.

"We don't have time for your illusions," he said harshly. "Something just attacked us. Huh… okay, look. Don't kill me, and I won't kill you. Okay?"

"Not an attack."

Deadpool's hand had shot up, a finger in the air. He seemed to have miraculously recovered from his delusions, and now sat up.

"Not an attack?" Kaine repeated, confused. "How do you mean?"

"Because a psychic force that powerful," Deadpool said, "should have killed us. At least, it should have, if it were attacking us. But… it wasn't. It was more of a warning."

"Have you been psychically attack before?" Kaine asked, watching the mercenary stand up.

"Yep," he said. "Many, many times. They usually don't work on me either. Which is why this is… really something else. Something disciplined."

"Fantastic," Kaine said, looking around. He blinked. "Uh… where are we?"

For it had just dawned on him that they were no longer in an alleyway in Texas.

"I don't think we're in Houston anymore, Toto," Deadpool stated, looking around as well. "Can I have my sword back?"

Kaine handed it back without thinking. He didn't really need it. He was more focused on figuring out where they were.

"We seem to be indoors," he said. "It looks like… a training dojo."

It did. Bamboo furnishings were everywhere, and they were standing on a mat. The room was otherwise bare, with the thin wall glowing orange with flickering light from behind it.

"Oh boy!" Deadpool exclaimed, dropping in a battle-ready stance. "It looks like I'm on an adventure! With the Scarlet Spider!"

"I told you," Kaine said, likewise bending his knees, preparing for a fight. "That's not my name."

"Really? The gaudy _scarlet_ suit, and you're not going for the obvious moniker?"

"Not my fault the damn suit is red."

"Scarlet."

"Shut up. It used to be all black."

The flickering light was bothering Kaine. He couldn't quite figure out why…

Until he felt the heat. And then he realized what was wrong.

"It's fire," he said. "The building's on fire!"

At that moment, a hole in the wall formed, a rip through the canvas. Two figures dropped to the floor, both of them unconscious, both of them very obviously female.

"Holy crap in a box, Batman," Deadpool gasped. "That's Psylocke! And Elektra!"

Kaine barely registered the names of the two women he had never seen before. They were wearing somewhat revealing ninja garments, Elektra red, Psylocke blue. Their jet black hair was splayed around their heads, and their faces were marred with soot. Kaine ran forward, picking each them up, on in each arm, and threw them over his shoulders.

"Come on!" he yelled. "We need to get out of here!" Deadpool started, fumbling with the circular device on his chest.

"Right!" he yelled, coming forward, grabbing the front of Kaine's costume. "Hold on! Allonsy!"

The device glowed blue, and Kaine's vision was filled with white. As he was blinded, he realized one thing for certain.

_This is going to be a long night._

* * *

Let's go! And please, review!


	2. Exordium

I'm gonna update this as I go. It should be self-explanitory.

I'm also going to write this 1st-person, present view, each chapter changing from character to character. Try something new!

* * *

**Elektra: Exordium**

I have actually never met Elizabeth Braddock.

Everyone assumes I have. After all, we were both trained by the Hand, were we not? We share many similarities. Both have been killed, both resurrected by the Hand. But in all truth, I have never met her before today.

That all changed when I felt a mental summons in my mind early this morning. In a half-remembered dream, I heard her calling, calling for help wherever it may be. She is what they call an "Alpha-Class" psychic. As if you could determine powers and abilities by classification.

It was then I learned that the Hand had returned. I had believed them defeated, gone forever. My mistake.

They had merely been biding their time. And now they had struck, capturing Psylocke, who had been one of their premier assassins. Like I was. Another similarity.

She had been subdued and controlled. Her summons to me, I later found out, was only possible because of our shared training. Because I too, am a psychic.

All right, so I'm not a very powerful one. But my talents are sufficient. So I went quickly to her aid.

Chinatown, New York. An interesting place for the Hand to be, considering they were Japanese based. Nonetheless, a dark presence weighed upon my mind. I almost felt the cold hands of Death upon me once more.

No. Not today. I walked confidently into the seemingly abandoned building, the building I saw cleverly marked by a red glove hanging in the window.

Confidence? More like arrogance.

* * *

**"That's it?"**

Psylocke had managed to free herself. Still, there's no way out of the building. The door I had come by… I can't find it, and I'm the best tracker in America when Wolverine's not around.

"Yes, that's it," I snap back, scanning our surroundings, unsheathing my sais. "You're call for help was not very clear."

"Well, excuse me," Psylocke says, conjuring a katana out of thin air, leaving a trail of pink energy in its wake. "The building is warded. I can't sense anything beyond you and me. It feels abandoned, but then why did I wake up here?"

"Wait, you weren't actually captured?" I ask, surprised. Psylocke stares at me.

"Captured?" she repeats, and confusion clouds her face. "I went to sleep last night in my own bed, at the X-Mansion. When I woke up, I was on the floor in the room next to us, fully clothed as well."

I raise my eyebrow, casting my gaze down her body. Bare legs, bare arms, fairly well exposed backside, and the front of her outfit doesn't quite cover the sides of her rather voluptuous chest. But then again, my own attire mimics it almost perfectly, except I have a shoulder strap, and my neck remains bare.

Indeed, we almost look perfectly alike. Another similarity. I'm beginning to sense there's more at work than coincidence going on.

"So, you didn't send out a distress call?" I ask her. She waves her hand uncertainly.

"I felt the after-effects of a subconscious cry," she answers. "But I didn't think it came from me. Like I said, the building's warded psychically."

We look around. The room we're in is bare, just like the hall outside and every other room I've been in. There are no windows, and the only light comes from Psylocke's glowing psy-knife, clasped in her other hand.

"The Hand is at work here," I breathe, and she appears startled.

"The Hand? I thought they were destroyed." I give her a scathing look.

"You were one of their best assassins, just like I was," I say, walking toward a door I hadn't noticed before. "Surely you must have known they would return."

"I… I try not to dwell on those years," she says guiltily. I understand that all too well.

I open the door, raising my blades. I can sense her right behind me, her katana held high above our heads. The room beyond is pitch-black.

"Almost definitely a trap," she whispers in my ear.

"At least it's something new," I whisper back, and we step forward.

In an instant, the door swings shut, and a chill breeze blows over us. She turns around, walking backwards, covering my six. I walk forward, dispelling the gnawing fear that grows in my mind.

"Can you hear that?" she whispers. I strain my ears. A tiny, whistling sound is coming from somewhere. I can't tell where.

"I hear it?" I breathe back. "What is it? Where is it?"

"I told you, I can't expand my awareness beyond you or me," she mutters. "It feels like someone has placed a blindfold on my mind."

"I feel the same," I admit. "Although I don't believe I'm as powerful as you."

"Power hardly matters," she says, and we both stop. She realizes as I do that she just quoted Qin Long, one of the most deadly warriors in the Hand's possession.

"He trained you too?" I ask. I see her head nod in the dim light.

"Anyway, my point is, psychic ability is just like any other talent. If you've got it, you can practice it and make it better, stronger."

"I… didn't know that." I feel uneasy. Did I really carry that power and not train it further? I utilize it. Why don't I improve it?

"Not everyone knows how," she says, as though she knew exactly what I was thinking. "If we get out of this, I can teach you some meditations and exercises."

"Wonderful. Now, let's focus on getting out of this."

"Of course." She falls silent for a moment. "It's just that… I've never met you before, Elektra. It's a pleasure."

"Pleasure's mine," I respond, not paying attention to the conversation. The darkness is beginning to affect my mind. I see the white shapes that one sees when one's eyes are shut tight. I blink, and Psylocke's knife has vanished.

"Uh, Psylocke?" I ask, and my voice wavers slightly.

"I'm still here," she answers right next to me. "Dammit… what happened?"

At this moment, a bright, shining light comes into existence, banishing the darkness, blinding both of us. I stumble backward, and I hear Psylocke cry out in pain.

And then, I hear the rustle of cloth, the rasp of a sword. And I know we're under attack.

I close my eyes. Fighting blind is no impediment to me. I swing my sais upward, and they make contact with something metal and thin. A katana.

"Psylocke!" I say, ducking under a swing behind me. "Be careful! They are here!"

I can hear the sounds of battle next to me, and I know she is fighting blind as well. We would need to be careful, or we might accidently fight each other.

And then I can feel her presence in my mind. Our consciousness meld, and we move in unison.

We press out backs against each other, and she feels warm after the chill of the dark. I try not to think about our practically bare asses making contact, but such thoughts are banished as soon as we begin to move.

The ninjas around us are all on the offense, but together, our defense is impenetrable. Her katana blocks high, while my sais swing low. We're always moving, always circling, alternating opponents. Our legs are constantly in motion, kicking, blocking, attacking.

Soon, we are on the offensive, our vision becoming accustomed to the bright light. There are five or so assassins around us, clad in the traditional black garb of the ninja, with a red hand insignia emblazoned on their chests. Their full clothing makes their gender impossible to make out, which means they are not assassins, but mere foot soldiers of the Hand. Albeit, highly trained and deadly foot soldiers.

But we are better.

My sais are now stabbing with more precision, having regained my vision. I specifically kill with minimum loss of blood. Although my outfit is red, and people have called me bloodthirsty, I honestly hate blood. The thought of cut arteries gives me goosebumps. Not that that stops me from doing my job.

Nor does it stop Psylocke, who dispatches three foot soldiers with seemingly graceful ease. We break contact, and the bond in our minds disappears.

We stand in the spotlight, panting slightly. Our bloody handiwork lies around us. There were fifteen of them.

"Well done," she says, her chest heaving. I nod, not feeling envious of her large breasts as I expand my own(quite large) chest with my breath. "Sorry about the forced mind meld. Usually I have to have the other person's permission. But you didn't fight me at all."

"I… had to give my permission?" I ask. She nodded.

I turn my attention away, focusing on the white lights. They are coming from construction grade spotlights. The tops of them are barely touching the ceiling. I walk forward, stepping over bodies.

"Elektra," Psylocke says slowly. "Wait. There's something wrong." I stop, turning around.

"What is it?" She shakes her head, scanning the area.

"The lights… there's no way they could have fit in here. There's only one door, and it's far too small."

"They do come apart," I point out. She shakes her head. I look at the lights and realize that they in fact do not disassemble.

"I think… I think that they are the trap," she says, walking up next to me. "Not sure how. I think we should leave."

I'm about to argue, but I notice one of the ninjas is not dead. He is moving slowly, his arm pulling, a cord grasped in his bloody hand.

"Psylocke!" I say warningly. She spins around, but the ninja gives a final yank on the cord.

One of the lights explodes, and our vision is once again blinded by light, orange and red this time.

Psylocke turns, grabbing me, throwing us on the ground, covering me with her own body. As the explosion rips the air above us, another explosion occurs behind us.

I cover her head with my arms, trying to protect her as she is protecting me. We hold tightly to each other, each depending on the other to survive. My heart is beating wildly, and I can feel her own through our chests.

As the explosions die down, her heart slows, quickly, too quickly. She loosens her grip, and I sit up.

"Psylocke?" I exclaim, grabbing her shoulders. "Psylocke! Elizabeth!"

Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is slightly open. She is unconscious, her pristine face covered in black scorch marks. I know I probably don't look my best either, but that doesn't bother me. There's a fire burning around us, and unless I do something, we'll both burn.

I duck under her midriff, grasping her in a fireman's carry. But as I stand up, my head swims and my legs buckle. There's something in the smoke, something that's dulling my senses. Psylocke must have inhaled it when the explosion first occurred, too concerned with protecting me, a perfect stranger, than her own safety.

Well, I wouldn't call us strangers anymore. I have a duty to her, and I will not let her down.

I walk toward the door, kicking it open. The darkness is gone, replaced by the fire, which has spread all too quickly. Our sense of smell must have been dulled as well, because I now smell gasoline all over the place. The room wasn't the trap. The entire building was.

I run forward, struggling to stay awake, squinting through the smoke. It's hard to breath, hard to think, but I fight through.

On the far side of the room, there's a wall. Shadows dance across it. Two shapes, human in appearance.

The wall must be thin. I can probably break through it. But only if I charge now. So I charge, my lungs feeling like they are on fire, my legs feeling like they're jelly.

I find myself at the wall, and I run through, the canvas ripping before me, and I topple over, dropping Psylocke on the ground.

I roll over, and my vision is almost completely black. The last thing I see before I lose consciousness are two masks, one red with black circles around white eyes, and one black, with massive, blood-red eyes, forbidding and frightening.

I don't care. If they are friends, wonderful. If they are enemies… at least we won't be alive to face our deaths.

* * *

Woohoo!


	3. Concursus

Up next, Deadpool! A little guide:  
Normal text: Deadpool  
_Italicized text: Deadpool's Yellow Box  
_**Emboldened text: Deadpool's White Box.**

* * *

**Deadpool: Concursus**

Yo, dawgs, wassup? Your old pal, Wade Wilson here, taking control of this terrible fan fiction with grace an aplomb.

_A-bomb? We get an A-bomb!?_

**No, dumb-ass. Aplomb. Look it up.**

Guys, shut up. I'm talking. Anyway, as I was saying, the idiot writing this story has mistakenly decided to do it from the first-person view.

**You didn't say it cool enough.**

Whaddya mean, I didn't say it cool enough?

**You have to say it with more… panache.**

_Pancakes? I love pancakes! When do we eat?_

Okay, okay… We're gonna write this fan fic…

**_IN FIRST-PERSON VIEW!_**

**Better.**

Cool. Anyway, I should probably continue the story now, so here we go.

Basically, the last thing I remember is I was collecting the very lucrative bounty on ole' Scarlet Spider's head, when all of a sudden, BAM! Lots of pain, bad nightmares, and we find ourselves in some training dojo that's on fire. Well, we didn't realize it was on fire till the fucking wall was torn apart and the backdraft hit us.

_And who tore the wall apart?_

Legs, asses, and tits!

**Otherwise known as Elektra and Psylocke. Both of whom were unconscious.**

So yeah, Scarlet grabbed the girls, I grabbed him, and teleported us out of there. Problem is…

"Deadpool?" Scarlet Spider's saying. "Where the hell are we?"

I look around. We seem to be in some crowded forest. Hey, wait, I never understood that phrase. Crowded forest? What the hell does that even mean?

**It means there are a lot of trees around. Not very open. Closed. Crowded.**

_Wow, you're smart._

**We're the same person.**

"It looks like…" I say, placing my hand on my chin, "that we're in a crowded forest."

"No shit, Sherlock," Scarlet retorts. "Which forest? Are we in Texas? New York?" I don't answer immediately, still thinking hard. "Deadpool, talk to me. You're the one who teleported us out of there."

"I know!" I say loudly, and some birds fly out of a tree. It's dark, so we can't see much beyond the light of the moon. "I usually know where… or when… I'm gonna end up. Usually."

_Which means never._

Actually, I'm fine over short distances. But when I don't know where the hell I am in the first place… this could be a short distance.

"Well, I don't see a burning building," Scarlet says, placing the women gently on the ground. "We seem to be some ways away."

He turns his attention to the unconscious babes, and so do I. He places his ear up to their chests, Elektra first, listening for a heartbeat.

_Are you kidding? He's just trying to motorboat 'em! Look! I mean, he's totally checking them out!_

**Actually, we're checking them out. He's actually concerned for their well-being.**

"I'm concerned about their well-being," I say out loud, forgetting I'm in public. Scarlet Spider ignores me, placing his hands over their left breasts, and pumping, starting with Psylocke, and turning to Elektra, going back and forth.

_See?! He's feeling them up! He's totally taking advantage of their state of unconsciousness!_

So what do you suggest? We save them?

_Hell no! We feel 'em up too!_

**Oh, hey. He's making out with them now.**

I look down. Sure enough, he's ripped his mask off, blowing air into their mouths, going back and forth.

"Help me!" he shouts, and I jump. "They're dying!"

_Oh, oops._

**Told you.**

I bend over Psylocke, as he is now concentrating solely on Elektra. God… _dayum._

_Dude, we haven't seen her since our video game._

**What about X-Force?**

_Doesn't count. It wasn't about us._

I pull my mask up a little bit, exposing my mouth. But as I get closer to start sucking face, she gives a little cough, and her eyelids flutter open.

_Dammit._

**I'm a little disappointed too.**

"Hey, Betsy," I say, helping her sit up. "Are you all right? Do you need CPR? Mouth-to-mouth? A throat massage… with my tongue?"

"Deadpool," she says weakly, pushing me away. "How… did you find us? Where are we?"

"Um, well," I stammer, trying to think of a good answer. "We… uh, were teleported. Randomly. Have no idea how, or why. Also, no idea where we are."

_Actually, we know why._

**Yeah, it's 'cuz this author demanded it.**

"We?" Psylocke repeats, her face clouded with confusion. And then she spots Scarlet Spider, desperately blowing air into Elektra's lungs.

Psylocke moves over to Elektra's other side, grabbing her hand, placing her head on her chest, checking for a heartbeat as well. Her head comes up, and she places a hand on Elektra's forehead, a pink glow coming from her hand. The look of concern and worry on her face is shocking.

_Whoa, whoa, wait… she cares about what happens to Elektra? SHE CARES ABOUT ELEKTRA!?_

**Oh boy, here we go…**

_PSYLOCKE/ELEKTRA LESBIAN YURI FANTASIES!_

**File that away for later, we have work to do.**

Elektra coughs, coming back to consciousness. Scarlet Spider sighs in relief, falling back on his knees, and Psylocke grasps her hand tightly, helping her sit up.

"Wha-what… what happened? Where are we?" Elektra asks dazed. Psylocke throws her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Elektra looks surprised, but places her own hands on Psylocke's back.

"You saved us," Psylocke says, her eyes full of tears. "You saved me."

"Just after you saved me," Elektra mumbles back, obviously not sure what to do in face of such open affection.

_Dudedudedude… THEIR BOOBS ARE TOUCHING!_

**Gotta focus here…**

_They're totally mashed together!_

"Glad you're okay," Scarlet Spider says, getting to his feet. Psylocke and Elektra break apart, and he holds out his hands to help them up. "But we need to figure out what's going on. Deadpool?"

"Huh, what?" Yeah, okay, so maybe my imagination is going on overdrive.

**Your imagination shuts down the rest of your primary functions.**

"I know that!"

Psylocke buries her face in her hand, while Elektra and Scarlet look puzzled. Scarlet walks up to me, and grabs my shoulders, shaking me.

"Stop being crazy for one second!" he says angrily. "You got us here, get us out!"

"Right away, Mr. Scarlet, sir!" I say, giving a mock salute, knocking his hands away. "Hang on…"

Something's wrong. My teleporter is shot. The light won't come on, and the button won't work.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Scarlet groans, looking up to the sky. "This cannot be happening."

_Hey, do we have to keep calling him Scarlet, or Scarlet Spider all the time?_

**He's Spider-Man's… brother? Cousin?**

"Clone. Formerly damaged, but now healed, and taking the identity of his dead brother, another clone."

The air falls silent, and everybody freezes. Psylocke and Elektra stare at Scarlet Spider and me, their faces alert, and their bodies tense. Scarlet, on the other hand, is looking at me, and his arms are hanging loosely at their sides.

"What did you say?" he asks, and his voice is deadly quiet.

_Oh shit._

**He's gonna kick our ass now.**

"Uh, did I say that out loud? Forget it, I'm crazy, remember? Crazy? Nuts? Hello?" I laugh nervously, but I can tell Scarlet is shaken.

"How… how did you know?" he asks, and his hands form fists, which are shaking. "Do you know my name?"

"Sure I do!" I say, and my mouth takes over at this point, detached from my logic and reasoning. "It's Scarlet Spider!"

Suddenly, he grabs the front of my costume, holding me high in the air. My feet are off the ground. He shakes me violently. His face is contorted with rage.

"My name is KAINE!" he bellows, and he throws me to the ground, delivering punch after punch to my face. "NOT… SCARLET… SPIDER!"

"Ow! Ouch! Owie!" I scream, trying to protect my face.

**It is a nice face, isn't it?**

_Who cares? Those punches hurt!_

"Stop! STOP!"

I can't tell who's yelling, me, Psylocke, or Elektra. Both of the ladies grab Scarlet-

_Kaine._

What?

_He said his name was Kaine._

Oh, okay. Anyway, both of them combined can't drag him off me. Damn, he is pissed.

"Enough!" Psylocke yells, grabbing Kaine's head in her hands. His angry expression fades to mild annoyance, and he swats her hands away.

"Don't patronize me," he growls.

"We're all a little tense," Psylocke says, sounding calm but firm. "We need to figure out where we are, and how to get back. That's the immediate issue."

"And how these two were in the building in the first place," Elektra adds, folding her arms.

"Hey, we were in Houston," I say, holding my hands up. "We were magically teleported, before we were scientifically teleported. To here. Which is…"

"Private property," Kaine says, his back to the rest of us. We all turn to look at him, surprised.

"How do you know that?" Elektra asks. He points up.

"Because of the sign."

Sure enough, there is a sign saying TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW. It's a nice, clean sign, with red lettering.

"Let me translate," Kaine says, turning back to us. "We will kill you, and feed your bodies to our dogs."

"How do you figure?" Psylocke asks. He jerks his head back to the sign.

"I've done my fair share of trespassing in the day. This is a rich person. Probably a crime boss's private estate."

He turns around, beckoning us to follow him. I go to follow, but I notice Elektra touching Psylocke's arm.

Straining my ears, I can just hear what they are saying.

"How can we trust him?"

"I'm willing to trust him till I'm not," Psylocke whispers back. "He is related to Spider-Man, but I'm not sure how."

"Deadpool said 'clone.'"

"Deadpool says a lot of things. I won't rule it out, but at the very least, we should keep an eye on him." She looks into Elektra's eyes. "And he did save us."

I clear my throat loudly. No one notices.

"Wait, Kaine!"

Kaine stops, looking back. Elektra jogs up, handing him his mask, which he had thrown on the ground.

"Are you related to Spider-Man?" she asks as he puts it on. "Because he would never have taken off his mask for anything."

Kaine grunts in answer, walking on.

* * *

**"So, who lives here, I wonder?" I ask, looking at the large mansion before us.**

The massive estate was at the edge of the forest, a good two mile walk from where we were. I can just make out guards on some of the balconies and terraces, all of them armed. Lights are on inside, but is doesn't look like there are a lot of people here.

"Wilson Fisk," Kaine mutters under his breath.

"How do you know? Is there another sign?" I ask, glancing around.

"His bodyguards," he answers. "I recognize some of them."

"The two on the top floor balcony," Elektra says, pointing them out. "Former Hand agents. Agents only, because they are American. But still, highly trained and dangerous."

"You guys know your Kingpin," I say. "Stalker, much?"

"This information is useful to know, Wade," Psylocke says, chiding me.

_Dude, tell this bitch to piss off._

**I thought she was a hot lesbian a few hours ago.**

_So? She's a bitch. I don't care how hot she is, or how lezzy._

Guys, she's not really a lez. That's just our imagination.

"Why did we end up in the Kingpin's private estate?" Kaine asks. Psylocke and Elektra exchange looks.

"It… might have something to do with the Hand," Psylocke says slowly.

"We were ambushed by Hand ninjas," Elektra explains. "They're back. Last time they were active, Wilson Fisk was in control of them."

"He went underground after they were destroyed," Psylocke finishes.

"So that's where he went to…" Kaine breathes. "Fine. Someone's doing weird, mystical, voodoo Hand crap and it's affecting all of us. Let's go ask Fisk what's up."

"Sneaky sneaky?" I ask, starting to attach a silencer on my rifle. He shakes his head.

"More like… let's fuck up his entire house," he says savagely.

* * *

Heh. Heh. Heh. This is gonna be fun, right?


	4. Percontatio

Hi all.

* * *

**Psylocke: Percontatio**

* * *

Okay, I have to admit it. I have the biggest fangirl crush on Spider-Man.

Ever since he teamed up with the X-Men years ago, I have admired him. He is strong, good-natured, and… well, funny. Yes, I actually find his humor funny.

The only reason I've never pursued a relationship with him, or even tried to get to know him better is because I'm a killer. A stone-cold, highly trained assassin. Also I'm an Omega-Level mutant telepath. That basically means I have a lot of enemies that would destroy him to get at me. And while I know he lives with a certain level of danger all the time, I know he wouldn't care very much for my style of fighting, which generally leaves my opponents dead on the floor.

Which is why I cannot figure out this man, Kaine. Everything about him is Spider-Man, except for his soul. His soul is shattered, delicately put back together, but with the knife-edge possibility of breaking again. And when that happens, he won't be fixed.

But while his soul is different, his body and spirit are exact replicas of Spider-Man. Deadpool called him a clone. That would make sense. I have not seen this kind of perfect match since Kwannon was still alive.

Aside from that, I don't like Kaine very much. I know he saved our lives, but his attitude isn't very sociable. Another thing different from Spider-Man.

_Psylocke? Is… uh, can you hear me?_

Oh, right. I've established a mental link with Elektra. But apparently, she's never communicated telepathically like this before.

_Yes, I can hear you. Well, I can think you. _

_ Very strange._

_ You'll get used to it._

_ Can Kaine and Deadpool hear us too?_

Actually, no they cannot. I haven't let Kaine into the bond yet, and Deadpool's mind is too convoluted to contain in a mental communication. His… other voices interfere too much. I tell Elektra this, and I can picture her brow furrowing.

I can imagine her face perfectly because I know her perfectly, just as she knows me. They say that it takes years to know someone. Elektra and I have bonded completely in the short time we've known each other, and I'd like to say we're closer than sisters now.

Another reason I can picture her face is because I can't see it right now. Despite Kaine's insistence that we charge full-speed ahead into Wilson Fisk's mansion, we girls decided to go in a little more stealthily, flanking the east and west wings of the house.

Of course, the element of surprise goes out the window along with the bodyguards Kaine's thrown from inside. I roll my eyes as I hear rapid gunfire, and Deadpool shouting something about "doorknobs of death."

_Is this Kaine guy for real? He feels exactly like Spider-Man, except…_

_ Except he's not, _I finish Elektra's thought. _I think he is a clone. I remember another Spider-Man, years ago. He used to be the Scarlet Spider._

_ Yes. Ben Reilly. _

_ How did you know his name?_

_ Let's just say… I knew Ben, _very_ well._

And it's at that moment I realize I'm not the only one with feelings for the Spider Boys. I scan the area, figuring out a way to get to Fisk's private rooms while Kaine and Wade provide distractions.

_What happened to him? _I ask Elektra, carrying on the conversation as I sneak past the guards on the walls, who are turning around to run inside, no doubt to back up their comrades.

_He died. Killed by the Green Goblin. He, too, was a clone. But… a much nicer man than Kaine is._

_Kaine's been through more than we know. Let's reserve judgment until we know more about his past._

Another reason I never entertained the idea of a relationship with Spider-Man is because he was actually protected. By Wolverine.

Logan had discovered my feelings for him by his own methods. That man knows everything. So he sat me down one day, took my hands in his, and said…

"Go after Spidey and I'll kill you."

He knew exactly what would happen. First, Spider-Man wouldn't love me. He couldn't. The differences between us were too much. Besides that, if anyone knew about my love, they would target him. Shadow King, the Hand, everyone… forces that even he could not face. It was best to leave him alone.

_Psylocke, are you in the house yet? _Elektra asks me. _I just entered the west wing. There's no one here._

_ Probably because they are all getting killed by Deadpool and Kaine. They just walked through the front door._

_ After Deadpool blasted it apart with a bazooka. Where was he keeping that?_

_ Don't ask._

Stealth is unnecessary since we're just basically walking through an empty house. I meet up with Elektra halfway, and we run upstairs. The sounds of battle are heard above us, and the trail of bodies are also a dead giveaway.

"The Kingpin will have an escape plan," Elektra says grimly, unsheathing her sais. "He always does."

"That's why we're backing them up," I say, summoning my sword. But as we reach the top landing, we are surprised by the sight that greets us.

"All right, Fisk, you have two options," Kaine is saying, holding the enormous man up with one hand. He is bloodied and bruised, while Kaine's scarlet costume is immaculate. "One, you answer my questions without a fuss. Two, I hand you over to Deadpool over here and he goes to work on you with that hammer."

Deadpool sits on a pile of bodies. He raises a large wooden hammer, which apparently was residing the smashed glass case behind him. The hallway is strewn with blood and bodies.

"You… can't… do this," Fisk gasps, blood trickling down his mouth. "All of you… you're all… dead…"

"No, Wilson," Kaine says darkly, tightening his grip. "You are gonna be dead if you don't answer my fucking questions. First and foremost… the Hand. What's the deal?"

Fisk is choking, unable to breathe. I walk forward, placing my hand on Kaine's shoulder.

"Let him down," I say in his ear. He turns his head to look at me, and the blood-red eyes of his mask are suddenly frightening.

"He can talk," he growls.

"Of course he can," Elektra says sardonically, walking forward as well. "We forgot that humans can still speak after their larynxes have been crushed. Silly us."

Kaine doesn't move. Then, after a few tense minutes, he lets go, and Fisk crumples to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Can I hit him now?" Deadpool asks eagerly, raising the hammer.

"We need him conscious," Elektra says tersely, crouching over the man's head, placing a sai on his forehead.

"Actually, no, we don't," Deadpool grumbles, but puts the hammer down.

"The Hand has reemerged. What do you have to do with it?" Elektra asks Fisk roughly, driving the sai a little into his skin. He is still gasping for breath, but his battered visage grows ugly with hate.

"I am well… aware of the Hand," he pants, his massive chest heaving. "It was their downfall that took me and everything I had down with them."

"Not quite everything," I observe, looking around at the plush mansion, which is opulent and resplendent, aside from the blood stains.

"Yeah, you are actually worth four point three million dollars net," Deadpool adds, looking at a calculator with hipster glasses. The odd props don't surprise me anymore. "Someone gimme his laptop and I can hack into his bank account."

"Later, 'Pool," Kaine says, placing a foot on Fisk's stomach. "We all know you decided to retire into obscurity after the Hand fell. But they're back now. How are you involved?"

"I'm not," Fisk splutters as Kaine adds pressure to his stomach. "I have heard nothing about the Hand for the past year!"

"You mean, you haven't heard anything in a year's time," I say, sensing the half-truth. "But recently, you learned something."

"Helps to have a powerful psychic during an interrogation," Deadpool chips in. "What's the dealio? And why are me and Scar-," Kaine turns his head to him, "-uh, I mean… me and this guy involved? We were mystically teleported. Long story. We wanna know… why?"

"Yeah, good point," Kaine agrees. "We were in Texas when this all went down. Where is this place?"

"You… you don't know?" Fisk asks, looking puzzled. Kaine presses down on his stomach, and Fisk yells in pain. "Argh! We're in Vermont! My private estate in Vermont!"

"Vermont?" Kaine repeats, the confusion in his voice obvious now, although Elektra trades a knowing glance with me.

The fact of the matter is, in the moment when both of us were hit in the explosion in Chinatown, I released a psychic cry for help. Being an Omega-Level telepath, I can do that as I lose consciousness. But sometimes the cry goes to the least expected people.

And last I checked, I didn't have teleporting powers.

_Deadpool's teleporter, _Elektra's voice resonates in my mind. _That stupid thing is so unpredictable. Your cry for help must have affected it and brought them to us. And then when they teleported all of us out of the fire, it brought us here._

_ That makes sense. _

I am wary of letting Kaine know that telepathically, because he might not be too pleased at the intrusion into his mind. Plus, I really don't want to talk to him.

_As soon as we're done here, we need to lose Kaine and Deadpool. They aren't helping us._

_ Agreed._

"Kaine?" I say, pulling him off Fisk. "I know why you ended up where we were." After a brief explanation, he nods.

"After all I've been through, nothing confuses me anymore," he says. "I mean, random call for aid, why not me?"

I don't say anything to make him think that it may not have been so random. He turns back to Fisk, who is now threatening Elektra, who in turn is digging the blade deeper into his head.

"I have nothing to do with the Hand!" he yells, blood trickling down his face in a thick line. "Nothing, you hear?!"

"But what of the information you heard about them recently?" she inquires, tilting her head.

"All I heard was that they were back," Fisk says, gasping in pain. "They are a much reduced group, with a single overlord that's issuing hits on certain people!"

"Who is the overlord?"

"I don't know! Someone high up from last time!"

"Who are the hits?" Deadpool asks from his perch, cleaning his sword. Fisk looks up at Elektra, then flicks his eyes over to me.

"Everyone who has betrayed them," he breathes quietly. "Everyone they feel has committed an injustice against them. So you can imagine my name is fairly high on their list. Your names as well."

He's talking to Elektra and me. We look at each other, but something else is on Elektra's mind.

"So they've become a vigilante group?" Kaine clarifies. "What happens when the list is completed?"

"They will try to cleanse the world," Fisk says, and now there is real fear in his eyes. "Starting with New York. They… they are insane."

"Yeah, well, we're not far from crazy ourselves," Kaine muses to himself. "Do you know where they are?"

"I do not," Fisk answers, and now his eyes are darting between all of us. "You… you won't let me live, will you?"

"We certainly will," Deadpool interjects as I open my mouth. "We don't just kill people willy-nilly. Well, except for these guys. They are kinda dead. But don't worry…" He sits down next to Fisk, putting his mask up close to Fisk's face. "What with the Hand after you and all, you better wish that we survive."

* * *

**"Well, that was fun. Is there any other fat cat's house we can break into?"**

No one answers Deadpool. Elektra and I have agreed to dump these guys. As we walk out of the house, I turn to face them.

"Listen, Kaine, Wade," I say, trying to be nice about it. "We appreciate the save earlier. But this thing with the Hand… well, it's personal. And we… Elektra and I… we can deal with it on our own. We're prepared now. So, thanks you both. But we'll take it from here."

"Whoa, hang on," Kaine says, holding up his hand. "That's it? You drag us all the way out here to Vermont…"

"Actually, we dragged you out to New York," Elektra interjects. "You dragged us here to Vermont." Kaine waves his hand.

"East Coast, same thing," he says. "You really think you can do this on your own? Without our help?"

"Yeah, I thought we worked really good back there!" Deadpool says, giving us the thumbs up. "Great teamwork!"

"No, we didn't," Elektra says. "You idiots just charged in, killing everything."

"I tried not to kill people," Kaine mutters. "Deadpool did it."

"What?! Liar!"

"Just, shut up!" I yell, and everyone falls silent. "Okay, look. We're going to deal with the Hand ourselves. End of discussion. Trust me," I add, trying not to sound like a commanding bitch, "it's for the best. You really don't want to be involved with the Hand."

"I've dealt with the Assassins' Guild before," Kaine says. "They're just another killer group that needs to be put down."

"No, Kaine," Elektra says firmly, putting her hand up. "If you want to screw around with death, fine. But we're not working together."

I can sense Kaine's cold indifference, even if I can't see his face.

"Fine," he says after a while. "I'm out. Gotta figure out a way to get back to Texas…"

He turns and walks away. Deadpool stares after him, before running to catch up. They talk for a bit before Deadpool turns and waves at us.

"What are they…?" Elektra asks, but the question trails away as they vanish in a flash of white light. "Oh… the bastards!"

"It's all right," I say indifferently. "We can just steal Kingpin's limo."

Although truth be told, I'm glad we won't see Kaine anymore. He is destroying the image of Spider-Man I have. Even though I know his pain, I really don't want my own coming to light.

Sometimes, even hardened ninjas like myself and Elektra can be hurt by our girlish feelings.

* * *

Next: SCARLET SPIDER!


	5. Insidiae

Hey, **Dusk Mind**, what's up? I'm addressing you directly, because you seem to be the only person who'se reading this story.

So, basically, I've thought about where this is going, and I realize that it's more of an art dump than anything else. Not really a story. I will continue it, and probably go in the direction we talked about. But after this chapter, I'm going to revert back into 3rd person past tense. It's just more comfortable for me. I may do some first person, but like I said, it'll be solely focused on Psylocke and Elektra. After this chapter, I'm phasing out Scarlet Spider and Deadpool.

It sucks, but I do have plans for them, too! Just, not in this tale.

* * *

**Scarlet Spider: Insidiae**

* * *

Can we forget about the Scarlet Spider for one moment, please?

I am not Ben Reilly. I am not a hero. I've learned what happens when I try. Maybe I did get a second chance. But there's nothing more I can do. There is no redemption for me.

So you can imagine my surprise at being caught up in this "adventure." Not that it lasted. The ninja twins turned us away after we helped them find some information. I mean, I can see their point, and I really don't want to go looking for trouble if I can avoid it.

Still, any kind of rejection hurts.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Deadpool is asking me, fiddling with a laptop. I look around.

"Are we…?"

"In NYC? Yep. I'll try and take you back to Houston later."

"Aren't you going to try and collect that bounty?" I ask, remembering how our night started. He shakes his head, and I see him grinning under his mask.

"Don't need too now," he says, chuckling evilly. "Guess whose bank accounts I just hacked into?"

He shows me the laptop, and my jaw drops. Sure enough, Deadpool's rewired all of Wilson Fisk's funds… quite an extensive sum… and placed it in a fake account, accessible only by him.

And me, because I can see his account details. I don't care though.

"Very cool," I say, unenthused, my initial shock wearing off. "Now you can spend whatever you want with impunity."

"Who are you calling puny?" Deadpool snarls, but then becomes docile. "Oh, impunity. Sorry. My b."

"It's all good," I say, suddenly very tired. "Man… you'd think they'd appreciate our help. They just blew us off like we weren't involved."

"With what they're dealing with," Deadpool says, surprisingly calm, "I'm kinda glad we're not involved. The Hand? Bad news. I mean, sure, they're hot, and I think Psylocke's got a thing for me… but we're better off doing something else. Anything, actually. Besides, they're already in a relationship, so…"

"True," I admit. "And don't you mean 'relationships?' Plural?" He looks at me, his eyes wide.

"Dude," he says, and his voice is barely concealing the glee he feels. "You didn't pick up on it?" I shake my head, before realizing what he's saying.

"Oh, come on," I exclaim, refusing to believe it. "You can't be serious."

"Dude, bro, I am totes serious," Deadpool says enthusiastically. "They are totally all over each other! Can't you see it?"

Unfortunately, I can, but that's mostly my perverted mind than anything else. Especially knowing what I know about Elektra.

"Elektra's straight," I argue. "Trust me, I know. She was in a relationship with the old Scarlet Spider a few years back, before he came back to New York."

I don't know why I'm telling Deadpool this, other than the fact that I want to wipe that stupid grin off his face that I can see underneath his mask. I remember, back when I was hounding Ben Reilly at every chance I got. I used to think he was the real Peter Parker, that he was responsible for all of my misfortunes.

I was a little misguided back then. And as my overall mission back then, I was what caused that relationship to end. She never knew why. But he did. All too well.

"So what's the plan, Stan?" Deadpool asks, shaking me out of my reverie. "Not that I'm not totally stunned by the shocking knowledge that the former Scarlet Spider banged Elektra years back, but I've moved on from my shock. Are you headed back to Houston?"

Matter of fact, I wasn't. I was planning on moving on from Texas, given my failure to be a superhero. I was going to take to the road, give up the costumed life.

Too many things had happened. My stunning failure above all else is what gnaws at me. Annabelle, Aracely, the Rangers… I've left them all behind. And then, Deadpool showed up, teleporting us to New York.

Maybe I should stay here, and live low?

"I don't know, 'Pool," I say, looking down upon the city. He teleported us to the top of one of the skyscrapers, and the lights of the city below illuminate the night. "I'm actually thinking I should stay here. At the very least, stay a few days before moving on. I don't have a home to go to. I never have."

"Oh, puh-_lease_!" Deadpool exclaims, slumping his shoulders. "Don't be so dramatic! You can crash at my crib!" I stare at him.

"You aren't serious," I say. He laughs.

"Think about it," he says, putting an arm around my shoulders, gesturing to nowhere. "You and me, roommates. Sharing in the Kingpin's ill-gotten gains. Cranking up the fun machine and getting into all kinds of crazy shit. It's a fangirl's dream come true!"

I shake off his arm.

"You are genuinely insane," I say. "You don't even have an apartment."

"Condo, dude, condo," he corrects me. "Come on, this is Manhattan! You seriously think I can't find us a decent place in the space of two hours with the bank I've got? Come on, bro. No homo. I seriously think this is a good idea."

"Do you really," I reply, still not taking him seriously. He truly is out of his mind if he thinks I want to even more time with him than I have to. "Well, I don't. In fact, I'm going to leave now."

At that moment, my spider-sense goes off. I look up in time to see a red-clad ninja descend on me, wielding a katana. I duck and roll, barely avoiding losing my head.

"'Pool, heads up!" I yell, but I see that three more ninjas have joined the fray, and that Deadpool's already fighting two on his own. The fourth comes over to help his comrade battle me.

"Hey, you the Hand?" I ask, dodging a few more swings from katanas. "Why are you attacking us?!"

"You aided the apostate!" hisses one of them back. "They have been targeted for death!"

"Yeah, we know about the lezzy pair," Deadpool retorts, coming to my side, handing me one of his swords. "Why us, though? Just 'cuz we helped them?"

"You saved them from our trap in Chinatown!" another says angrily. "They should have perished, but you saved them!"

"Coincidence!" I say back, blocking a few attacks with my borrowed katana. "We randomly showed up and saved them. Then we went after Kingpin. We don't have any beef with the Hand!"

Deadpool jumps over his two, but they sweep his legs out from under him, grabbing him and placing their weapons at his throat. The third rushes over to help pin him down. The fourth merely raises his blade to me, keeping me back.

"You must pay for your interference," the ninja says. "Your crime was in aiding the ones marked for death. Disfigurement should be your punishment."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Deadpool yells, struggling. "Have you seen me? I'm as disfigured as they come!"

"The Assassins' Guild," I say, and the ninja freezes. "Heard of them? I know they were your rivals before."

"We are aware of them, and their fate," the ninja responds, and there is trepidation in his voice. Good.

"I'm the guy that did that to them," I say, and I can tell that he's impressed and afraid at once. I don't mention that I did it with help, but then again, no one really knows the details surrounding the Assassins' Guild's demise. "I'm not saying that as a threat to you guys. I'm saying… you're welcome."

There is silence, the only sounds being the streets below, the honking of car horns, the screech of tires, the acoustics of the concrete jungle. Finally, the ninja speaks.

"I see."

"I hope you do," I say. He steps back, lowering his blade.

"You have our thanks," he says. "We do not wish to make enemies where enemies would not be found."

"Very wise," I add.

"But this one," he continues, pointing his sword at Deadpool. "This one still needs to be punished."

"Hell, kill him for all I care," I say indifferently. "He tried to do me in earlier tonight."

"What the hell, bro?!" he screams. "Bros don't let bros get killed!"

"Sorry, 'Pool," I say, a grin spreading under my mask as the ninja steps forward, raising his katana. "But I have brothers… and I have tried to kill them."

* * *

**"'Pool? Deadpool, wake up."**

I prod the bloodied assassin until I get a sign of life out of him, a groan escaping his lips, and a twitch in his middle finger.

"Fu' off," he mumbles, his head rolling. "Wha'… where are we?"

"Your condo," I answer. "Congratulations. You got a new roommate."

Indeed, we're in a condo that I just purchased an hour ago. It took me three hours, but I found a decent place in the Upper East Side. I had to smuggle Deadpool in, covering up his wounds and making him seem like my wasted roommate.

The ninjas had cut him up bad, but I knew his healing factor could take it. That's why I let them rough him up. I then took his laptop and used the funds he had filched from Fisk to buy this place. I hadn't intended to stay, but I was so tired that I passed out on the bed, leaving Deadpool to heal on the couch.

"Bro!" he shouts, before clutching his side. "Ooh… that's gonna take a while. But dude! You came around!"

"Yeah, well, your massive fortune could help me," I admit. "I need to disappear, and I don't want to wear a costume anymore. This… this is the only thing I've got left."

"You mean, I'm the only thing you've got left," Deadpool grunts, pulling himself into a sitting position. "Oh, dude… nice place. Good taste. So you're hanging up the Scarlet Spider? Uh, sorry."

"It's cool," I say, waving my hand. "The media liked to call me that. Funny, I don't think even the first one liked the name."

"Didn't he become Spider-Man?" he asks.

"For a while," I answer. "Before he died."

We sit in silence for a while. The sun is shining through the massive window that takes up the entire wall on the east side. It's a beautiful sight.

"What about the Hand?" Deadpool asks.

"Nothing," I reply, standing up. "I'm not going to do anything. From here on out, the gals are on their own. I don't know, and I really don't care. I'm giving up the adventure life, Deadpool."

"Kaine, come on," he says. "You're gonna be living with me. Adventure is all we're gonna have! Oh, and btdubs?"

"What?" I ask, grinning in spite of myself.

"Call me Wade."

He stretches out his hand, and I take it, shaking it firmly. This is the start of a new life for me. And although my conscious may twinge a bit about the Hand, I'm gonna forget about them, and Psylocke, and Elektra.

* * *

And so the curtain falls, and Kaine and Wade exit stage right. Farewell, good comrades! We knew you well.


	6. Immodicus

All right, **Dusk Mind,** here's another chapter for you. I'm bum-rushing through this, 'cuz I wanna see how it ends as much as you do. There will be two chapters after this, one that deals with the Hand(they deal with it), and a final chapter that... um... ties up loose ends. And other things.

Consider this a taste of further things to come.

* * *

**Immodicus**

* * *

Elektra and Psylocke had decided that the first place they'd investigate would be the dojo where they were ambushed in Chinatown.

The building was a ruin, blackened rubble and debris all over the place. The fire had been put out, and the emergency crews had cordoned it off. Now there was talk of putting the place under demolition.

It had taken the two no time at all to sneak into the building. Psylocke activated her psy-knife, casting a purple glow about them. Neither drew their weapons, for the wards around the building were broken, and they could sense they were alone.

Elektra was on the hunt, doing what she did best. Scanning each and every room they walked through for clues, she kept her eyes open to anything that seemed out of the ordinary. The two ninjas made no noise as they stepped through the wreckage, their communication once more being purely psychic.

_There is no indication the Hand was even here, _Elektra noticed. _None of the assassins we fought, or the strange lights that took us by surprise._

_ They even cleaned up the blood, _Psylocke pointed out. _Odd. I remember they used reanimated soldiers for their dirty work._

_ Unless the new leadership is opposed to that. Don't forget, there were some factions who resisted the use of the undead._

They carried on their search in silence. Not even the sound of their breathing could be heard. And still, no indication of the Hand showed itself.

_Do you recall Qin Long? One of the Fists? _Psylocke smiled as memories of the man who trained her came to light.

_Yes, I do remember. He was the one who trained me the most. Did he train you to?_

_ He did. Not as extensively as he did you, I think. But I did learn from him. And one thing I remember… he always covered his tracks. Perfectly._

Psylocke stopped, turning to look at Elektra.

_You think he was behind this? That he is running the Hand now?_

_ He was a loyalist. I wouldn't have called him ambitious, but then again, he was full of surprises._

_ He was._ Psylocke considered this, and found that it wouldn't surprise her at all to learn that Qin Long was running the Hand. _And he's marked us for death._

_ That doesn't surprise me, _Elektra thought, making a face. _The good of the Hand, before anything else._

They fell silent, each pondering the theory. It didn't bring them any closer to finding the Hand, but it was a way to prepare them for what they might encounter.

_If it is Qin Long in charge, _Psylocke thought, _then our only option seems to be to wait. We won't find him if he does not want to be found. But he will certainly try to kill us again._

_ So we wait,_ Elektra finished. _I don't much like that plan._

_ Nor do I,_ Psylocke agreed. _But it seems to be our only hope._

They stood in silence again, but this time, it was a little more awkward.

"So," Elektra said out loud, her Greek accent low and quiet. "Now what?"

"We find a place where we can prepare for an attack," Psylocke answered, and it felt good to use her voice. "They won't try in broad daylight, so we must wait till nightfall."

"I have an apartment," Elektra offered, and for some reason, she blushed. "It isn't very big, but I use it whenever I'm in New York. We can use that."

"Excellent," Psylocke said, making the glowing blade vanish with a thought. She did it, mostly to hide the heat that was no doubt showing on her face.

Why was the conversation making her react so? They both felt the embarrassed question linger in their minds, and they both chuckled out loud in the dark nervously. The bond that they shared that had sprung up literally overnight seemed to pulse a little.

"Um," Elektra muttered, and Psylocke noticed her voice was closer than before. "I, uh… I don't quite understand… what's happening…"

"I'm sure we'll figure it out," Psylocke said reassuringly, although she wasn't sure herself what was going on.

They were connected, there was no doubt about that. But they had thought the connection was no more than close friends, sisters at the most.

Perhaps their feelings for each other were more than… familial?

* * *

**"Why do they call you Betsy?"**

Elektra looked at the raven-haired woman before her, gazing around at the small apartment. She looked down and smiled.

"It's a British shortening of Elizabeth," she replied, looking over her shoulder to make eye-contact. "I've been called that ever since I was a child."

"It is a child's name," Elektra stated. "Or an old woman's. You are neither, and Elizabeth is a good name."

"Then you may call me that, if you wish," Elizabeth said, going to the window. "It is rather compact."

"Cramped," Elektra corrected her. It was a small apartment, and only one room, apart from the bathroom. It was clean, and empty but for a bag with a change of clothes, and a mattress that was tucked away in the corner. Elizabeth herself was not unaccustomed to a Spartan way of life, and so appreciated Elektra's frugality.

"We have several hours before nightfall," Elektra pointed out.

"Let us spend that time in meditation," Elizabeth suggested, and they sat on the ground, cross-legged, a few feet apart from each other.

Elektra couldn't help glancing at the way Elizabeth moved, her majestic grace, the slow calculation of every action. Likewise, Elizabeth was impressed by Elektra's flexibility, the grace granted her by years of dancing.

Both women were glad of the excuse to meditate, to disappear into the serene void of the mind, for both were becoming increasingly uncomfortable in each other's presence.

As they closed their eyes, however, they found that not even the emptiness of concentration could provide escape from their feelings. Their bond connected their minds, and images flew through them at light-speed, their wants, needs, desires. All of the deepest secrets they had were laid bare, and they saw their emptiness fulfilled.

More importantly, they saw their emptiness filled by each other.

Elektra gasped, her eyes fluttering open. Elizabeth had come much closer, and was leaning forward, her lips brushing against Elektra's. One hand rested on the inside of her thigh, and their breasts were an inch apart. Her heart beat faster. Part of her, the part that came from experience, wanted to pull away. But another part, the piece of her soul that had been fulfilled by the emotional bond, wanted to respond in kind. In compromise, she froze.

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes slightly closed, and Elektra felt her lips move against her own.

"It doesn't work unless you open your mouth," she whispered, her breath hot and sweet against Elektra's face.

"I… I don't…" Elektra stammered, her heart rate quickening even more, a red flush appearing over her face. "I've never… done this before."

"Mmm," Elizabeth breathed, not drawing away. "I have, once. Don't you feel it, the singular bond that brings us together? You can't deny it."

"N-no," Elektra stuttered. Her brain seemed to not be working, but her eyelids were beginning to close. "I can't."

She opened her mouth, unsure of how to proceed. Elizabeth smiled again, kissing her, and this time, Elektra responded, kissing her back. Elizabeth drew closer, her hand rubbing higher up Elektra's thigh, their chests meeting, their hearts beating together. As they kissed further, Elektra moved her tongue forward, tasting Elizabeth's lip gloss, which was cherry, and her saliva, hot and sweet with her own. Their tongues met and tangled, their lips opening and closing, their hands moving all over their bodies.

But then Elektra pulled back, her chest heaving, sweat on her upper lip. Elizabeth's face was red, and she looked concerned.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"It's… it's not that," Elektra said, catching her breath. "I… I do want this. More than anything I have ever wanted. But… we cannot afford to be caught off-guard. Not right now."

Elizabeth nodded, understanding in her eyes. She leaned backwards, sitting cross-legged again.

"When we've dealt with the Hand," she said simply. Elektra nodded, excitement coursing through her veins.

They meditated again, this time, not avoiding the bonding of hope and love that they both shared. Elektra had always been straight, and still recalled her feelings for Ben Reilly. Elizabeth still remembered her time with Warren Worthington. But now, they could move on. Together.

* * *

Yeah. I totally did not enjoy writing that. No. Not at all... (cough).


	7. ANNOUNCEMENT

Hey guys. I have a major announcement to make concerning my time here on this fine website.

I am retiring.

Now before you raise the pitchforks and torches at me, let me explain. I am not leaving the website. I will remain and continue to read stories, as well as beta-read. But I will no longer be writing any more stories. I may occasionally produce a one-shot every once in a while, but all of my current stories are being discontinued. Now let me tell you why.

Recently, I took stock of my life, especially about where it was going. I realized that I needed to make some changes, and fan fiction was one of them. I can't keep producing it like it's a job, otherwise I will lose sight of what is really important for me. There are things I need to do, and I can't keep doing this. So, I am stopping. But before I end, I do want to say one thing.

You guys rock. Thank you so much, for all the love and support. In three years and 23 stories, I only ever received one flame review. The rest have been encouraging, supporting, and constructively critiqueing. I appreciate that, and I love you guys so much for it.

Now, having said that, I now need to address what will happen to my current fics. They are all up for adoption to anyone who wants them. Just let me know, and they're yours.

**Hand In Hand: **This started out as a decent story, and I had some relatively great things planned for it. It quickly degenerated into porn. Into yuri porn at that. I got rid of two of the main(male) characters just so I could write some hentai. Honestly, I'm a little disgusted with myself. I haven't finished the last few chapters, and I don't plan to. However, if anyone wants it, have at it. It's yours.

**SPIDER-MAN: Ultimatum: **This was my baby last year, which fizzled out because of virtually no support for it. I loved it, and I would have loved to finish it. But alas, it was not to be. It is basically a retelling of Spider-Man from Civil War to Superior Spider-Man. I had several arcs planned for after Grim Hunt(which is where I stopped), so if anyone wants it, let me know.

**ARKHAM WEB: Origins: **Gah, I love this one. Especially since I introduced Peter's love interest, which was Talia Al Ghul, by the way. Her story was that she pretends to be a lowly assassin so that she can escape the life that her father has laid out for her. Origins was going to end more or less the same way as the game, with the exception of Deadpool's involvement, Spider-Man and Batman teaming up after Royal Hotel, and Deathstroke helping them at Blackgate. The sequel, set in Arkham City, would have been much different from the game. Norman Osborne would have been the big baddie behind Strange, and Venom would have supplied the cure for the TITAN disease.

**Road Trip: **This was supposed to be the sequel to Chauffeur, my most popular story ever. However, I decided not to pursue it. It's up for grabs as well. It's mainly comedic crap.

**MARVEL: Night Of Requiem: **My AU, which is also one of my favorite stories. I'd love to finish it, but alas. Here's how it would have gone down. Ben Parker(Reilly) would have shown up, suffering from memory loss. Peter takes him in, trying to help him out. They all think he killed Fury, but they don't blame him for it, as he was under Hydra brainwashing at the time. Sharon Carter restarts S.H.I.E.L.D., but Steve Rogers doesn't like the direction she's taking it in. He takes the remaining Level Tens and calls them "Avengers," to deal with the Hand and Hydra, remembering Fury's death. Turns out, Fury was killed by Peter and Ben's older brother, Richard Parker II, who has adopted their father's code name: Kaine. He is suffering from cellular degeneration due to side effects from S3. He kills Silver Sable. Peter kills him, but realizes that he needs to change. He joins the Avengers, proposing to Natasha on the spot, determined never to waste another moment again. She accepts. I wasn't sure how the whole World War Three thing was going to turn out, but hey, that's up to you guys.

**Supernatural: Black Hunter: **This was intended to by the sequel to Black Butler: His Butler, Supernatural. I never started it, but hey, once again... it's up for grabs.

**Ultimate Teen Titans: **And here we are. My favorite fan fiction series of all time. Hopefully, some of you feel the same way. I put this one up for adoption before, but returned. Not so this time. I know I pissed some of you off with the reboot, but hey, now the torch passes to you. You don't even need to continue the series, just write stories based in this universe. I'd love to see it continued(and for Peter and Raven to get back together!).

Once again, I am sorry, and I thank you. All of you. You made it so worth it. I hope that some of you will take the torch I pass, and continue on. And if I think of any good challenges, I'll post them to my profile. But once again, and for the last time...

Thank you, and good night.


End file.
